


Time Is On My Side (3.15)

by ackles_ass_equation



Series: Superghetto [60]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Related, Episode: s03e15 Time Is On My Side, Screenplay/Script Format, Young Bela
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 14:38:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7805755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackles_ass_equation/pseuds/ackles_ass_equation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam n' Dean discover a thugged-out doctor who, back up in 1816, became obsessed wit findin tha secret of eternal game by takin peoplez vital organs. Meanwhile, Bobby findz Bela n' Dean leaves Sam ta confront her muthafuckin ass.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. NOW

EXT. NIGHT - OUTSIDE A HOSPITAL

 **DOCTOR 1  
** Up fo' a thugged-out drink?

 **DOCTOR 2  
** Fuck dat shit, I can't. I gots ta be up all up in tha crack of dawn. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Duty calls.

 **DOCTOR 1  
** Boob thang?

 **DOCTOR 2  
** I wish. Nah, some crabby oldschool broad wants tha works. I need a gangbangin' forklift ta git all dat shiznit back up.

 **DOCTOR 1  
** All dat work ta have what, biatch? 15 minutes off her faces?

 **DOCTOR 2  
** Stayin lil' be a funky-ass brutal bidnizz.

Doctor 2 goes ta his hoopty yo. Dude is grabbed from behind n' thrown up in tha trunk of a cold-ass lil car.

 **DOCTOR 2  
** (bangin on tha trunk) Yo dawwwwg! Help! Let me outta here biaaatch! Help!

Doctor 2 stumblez tha fuck into tha hospitizzle.

 **NURSE  
** Sir?

 **DOCTOR 2  
** Please.

 **NURSE  
** It aint nuthin but all gravy, sir. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Let me peep what tha fuck happened. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Don't you worry. Therez not a god damn thang I aint seen.

 **DOCTOR 2  
** Fuck dat shit, no, no...

 **NURSE  
** Let me see...

Da nurse pulls at what tha fuck tha doctor is clutchin n' begins ta scream.


	2. ACT ONE

INTERIOR fo' realz. ABANDONED CABIN, SIDE ROOM.

Close up of a Demon strapped ta a cold-ass lil chair havin holy wata thrown on his muthafuckin ass. Da Demon screams n' thrashes from side ta side.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass locked n loaded ta talk?

 **DEMON  
** I don't give a gangbangin' fuck. I don't give a fuck anything!

 **DEAN  
** Oh, you hear that, Sam, biatch? Dude don't give a fuck anything.

 **SAM  
** (Smirking) Yeah, I heard.

 **DEMON  
** I be spittin some lyrics ta you tha real deal.

 **DEAN  
** Oh, yo ass is, biatch? My fuckin god, then I owe you a apologizzle fo' realz. Allow me ta make it up ta you, biatch. (DEAN forces holy wata tha fuck into tha Demonz grill) I'ma ask you one last time...Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck holdz mah contract?!

Da Demon goes on tha fuckin' down-low, head hanging. When he looks up his wild lil' fuckin eyes is black n' he is smiling.

 **DEMON  
** Yo crazy-ass mutha n' shit. Yeah, she, uh, flossed it ta me right before I bent her over.

 **DEAN  
** (leanin close) I want a name. Or else...

 **DEMON  
** Or what, biatch? Yo ass is gonna squirt yo' holy wata up in both ends, biatch? Please. Brother, thatz like a gangbangin' fleabite compared ta whatz comin ta me if I rap jack. Do what tha fuck you want. Da only thang I be scared of is tha demon holdin yo' ticket.

DEAN stares all up in tha Demon then looks at SAM, whoz ass nodz n' begins recitin a exorcism.

 **DEAN  
** How tha fuck do dat feel, biatch? Do dat feel good?

 **DEMON  
** Go ahead. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Send mah crazy ass back ta hell... 'Cause when you git there, I be bout ta be waitin fo' you, biatch...with all dem hommies whoz ass is dyin fo' a sick lil hook up n' greet wit Dean Winchester.

 **SAM  
** Should I, biatch? 

 **DEAN  
** Send his ass someplace his schmoooove ass can't hurt any suckas.

Sam continues tha exorcism. Da Demon begins screaming.  
  
........................

INTERIOR. MAIN ROOM OF CABIN

 **SAM  
** (Into his thugged-out lil' phone) Yo ass ran tha prints twice, biatch? Is you sure, biatch? Okay. Yeah, just chalk it up ta lab error. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Don't I know dat shit. Okay. Thanks. Yeah, I be bout ta tell tha lieutenant.

Dean enters.

 **SAM  
** Bury tha body?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah. Looks like these demons ride 'em hard just fo' kicks. (Dude opens n' chugs on a funky-ass brew then crashes tiredly onto a cold-ass lil couch.) What was tha beeper call about?

 **SAM  
** Remember dat thang up in tha paper yesterday?

 **DEAN  
** "Stripper suffocates dude wit fat-ass thighs"?

 **SAM  
** Da other thang.

 **DEAN  
** Right, tha muthafucka dat strutts tha fuck into tha E.R. n' kneels over dead as fuckin fried chicken. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. His stomachz ripped out?

 **SAM  
** His liver, straight-up fo' realz. Anyways, I just found up suttin' pretty damn interesting.

 **DEAN  
** What?

 **SAM  
** Da dead body covered up in bloody fingerprints, not tha victim's.

 **DEAN  
** Okay, pimped out. My fuckin playa Dizzle Caruso is ghon be stoked ta hear dat shit.

 **SAM  
** Those fingerprints match a muthafucka whoz ass took a dirt nap up in 1981.

 **DEAN  
** Really. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So, what tha fuck is we rappin', biatch? Uh, struttin dead, biatch? Walking, cappin' dead?

 **SAM  
** Maybe.

 **DEAN  
** Zombies do like tha other other white meat yo. Huh. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Speakin of, what tha fuck do you care bout zombies?

 **SAM  
** What do you mean?

 **DEAN  
** Well, you've been on soul-savin detail fo' months now fo' realz. And we three weeks out, n' all of a sudden, you horny bout some bangin' zombie action?

 **SAM  
** Yo, dude, you tha one whoz been all gung ho ta hunt. I just thought I'd be bustin you a gangbangin' favor.

 **DEAN  
** Yo, no, no, no, no, no. I didn't say I didn't wanna do it, aiiight. I mean obviously I wanna hunt some zombies.

 **SAM**  
Okay, fine, whatever n' shit.   
  
...............................  
  
INTERIOR. CORONER'S LAB

DEAN n' SAM stand listening.  
  
**CORONER  
** Yeah, tha rest of tha body was intact. Da liver was tha only organ missing.

 **DEAN  
** Now, where tha liver was ripped out, did you happen ta notice any...ah...teeth marks?

 **CORONER  
** (Givin dem a 'are you insane' look) Can I peep yo' badges?

 **SAM  
** Of course, sure.

 **CORONER  
** Fine. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So you cops n' morons.

 **DEAN  
** Excuse me son, biatch? Fuck dat shit, no. We straight-up smart.

 **CORONER  
** Da liver was not ripped out. Dat shiznit was removed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Surgically. By one of mah thugs whoz ass knew they way round a scalpel. Didn't you read mah report?

 **DEAN  
** Of course our phat asses done did. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Oh, dat shiznit was riveting. Dat shiznit was a real page-turner, just delightful.

 **CORONER  
** Yo ass done?

 **DEAN  
** I be thinkin so.

 **CORONER  
** Please go away.

 **DEAN  
** Okay.

 **SAM**  
Sure.  
  
..............................

EXTERIOR yo. HOSPITAL HALLWAY

Sam is smiling.

 **DEAN  
** What?

 **SAM  
** Nothing. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So, dat kind of punches a hole up in our zombie theory, huh, dat scalpel thang?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, zombie wit game, "Dr. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Quinn, medicine zombie".

 **SAM  
** Maybe we on tha wack track, Dean, lookin fo' hacked-up corpses.

 **DEAN  
** What should we be lookin for?

 **SAM**  
Survivors. This aint zombie lunch. This is organ theft.  
  
...................................

INTERIOR yo. HOSPITAL ROOM  
  
**PATIENT  
** I holla'd all up in tha cops all of dis yesterday. It make me wanna hollar playa! I don't wanna rap bout it no mo'.

 **SAM  
** It aint nuthin but just a cold-ass lil couple thangs, sir.

 **PATIENT  
** Yo, man. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I just gots mah kidney jacked. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I be tired.

 **DEAN  
** We bout ta be outta here quick. Don't you wanna git tha muthafucka?

 **PATIENT  
** Will it git me back mah kidney?

 **SAM  
** So whatz tha last thang you remember?

 **PATIENT  
** Feedin mah meter n' shit. I gots jumped from behind...and then I raise up strapped ta a table fo' realz. And then da most thugged-out shitty pain you could possibly imagine, only worse fo' realz. And then I black up again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Thank Dogg fo' realz. And then I raise up beatboxin up in some no-tell motel up in a funky-ass bathtub full of ice.

 **DEAN  
** Do you remember anythang bout tha surgery- you know, what tha fuck tha muthafucka looked like, any details bout tha room?

 **PATIENT  
** Let me be thinkin bout dis shit. Yeah...one thang is comin back ta mah dirty ass. Yo ass know what tha fuck I remember, biatch? Gettin mah kidney cut outta mah body hommie!

.............................

INTERIOR. MOTEL ROOM

SAM n' DEAN sit all up in tha table. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM is rockin tha laptop n' DEAN is happily smokin a funky-ass burger.  
  
**SAM  
** So, I gots a theory.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah?

 **SAM  
** Yeah, I talked ta Mista Muthafuckin Gigglez doctor. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Turns up his crazy-ass muthafuckin incisions was sewn up wit silk.

 **DEAN  
** Thatz weird.

 **SAM  
** Yeah, nowadays it is yo, but silk used ta be tha suture of chizzle back up in tha early 19th century. Dat shiznit was straight-up problematic. Patients would git massive infections. Da dirtnap rate was insane.

 **DEAN  
** Dope times.

 **SAM  
** Right, so doctors, they had ta do whatever they could ta keep infections from spreading. One way was maggots.

 **DEAN  
** Dude, I be smokin.

 **SAM  
** It straight-up kind of hit dat shiznit cuz maggots, they smoke shitty tissue, n' they leave phat tissue fo' realz. And git all dis bullshit. When they found our muthafucka, his body cavitizzle was stuffed full of maggots.

 **DEAN  
** Dude, I be smokin! Alright, let me git dis straight. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So, playas is gettin ganked, right?

 **SAM  
** Yeah. 

 **DEAN  
** A lil "antiques roadshow" surgery, some organ theft. But why is dis all soundin familiar?

 **SAM  
** Because you heard it before. When you was a kid... from Dad. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Doc Benton...real-life doctor, lived up in New Hampshire, solid n' obsessed wit alchemy, especially how tha fuck ta live forever n' shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So, up in 1816, Doc abandons his thugged-out lil' practice and...

 **DEAN  
** Right, yeah, no muthafucka hears from his ass fo' like 20 years, n' all of sudden, playas start showin up dead as fuckin fried chicken. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **SAM  
** Dead or- or missin a organ or tha hand or some other kind of part.

 **DEAN  
** Cause whatever da thug was bustin was straight-up makin moves yo. Dude just kept on ticking. Parts would wear out, he'd replace dem wild-ass muthafuckas. But I thought Dad hunted his ass down n' took his thugged-out ass out. 

 **SAM  
** Yeah, I guess tha Doc must have plugged up in a freshly smoked up one.

 **DEAN  
** All right, wherez da ruffneck bustin tha deed?

 **SAM  
** Accordin ta this, Bentonz picky bout where da perved-out muthafucka sets up his fuckin lab yo. Dude likes dense forest wit access ta a river or stream or some kind of freshwater.

 **DEAN  
** (Takin another big-ass bite of his burger) Why?

 **SAM  
** Because thatz where he likes ta dump tha bile n' intestines n' fecal matter n' shit. (DEAN looks disgusted n' lowers his burger, gaggin slightly) Lost yo' appetite yet?

DEAN considaz this, lookin all up in tha burger n' then at SAM, then back all up in tha burger.

 **DEAN  
** (to his burger) Oh baby, I can't stay mad at you, biatch.

DEAN takes a big-ass bite, starin at SAM as his schmoooove ass chews.   
  
.............................

EXTERIOR. NIGHT

A jogger be abducted. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time yo. Dude wakes up in Doc Bentonz cabin, strapped ta a operatin table. Doc Benton carves open his chest n' removes his thugged-out ass as tha playa watches, horrified.

 **JOGGER  
** No,. Biiiatch please.No. Fuck dat shit, no.


	3. ACT TWO

EXTERIOR SHOT - MOTEL - THE ERIE.

INTERIOR MOTEL ROOM

SAM n' DEAN lean over a map on tha bed.  
  
**SAM  
** (Pointin at map where some areas is circled up in red) So these is all tha cabins. Most of dem done been abandoned fo' years.

 **DEAN  
** So what tha fuck tha hell is we waitin for?

DEAN'S beeper rings yo. Dude lyrics.

 **DEAN  
** Bobby. 

 **BOBBY  
** Hey. Think I finally gots a funky-ass bead on Bela. 

 **DEAN  
** I be listening. 

 **BOBBY  
** Rufus Turner n' shit. 

 **DEAN  
** Whoz that, biatch? Like a Cleveland steamer?

 **BOBBY  
** Dat punk a hunter, or he used ta be.

 **DEAN  
** And now?

 **BOBBY  
** Hermit mostly. Do a lil pushin on tha side fo' realz. Anyway. I put tha word up on Bela months ago yo. Dude just called. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Said a biatch gots up in touch, wanted ta loot some thangs.

 **DEAN  
** And tha pimpin' muthafucka be thinkin itz Bela?

 **BOBBY  
** British accent, went by tha name Mina Chandlez.

 **DEAN  
** Dat hoe used dat before. Well, itz kinda of a sloppy move, aint it, biatch? Gettin up in contact wit one of yo' oldschool playas.

 **BOBBY  
** Friend, biatch? Haven't laid eyes on his ass up in fifteen years. Dat punk not tha Chrizzle card type. I doubt she knows I know his muthafuckin ass. Canaan, Vermont.

 **DEAN  
** Thanks, Bobby. We on our way.

 **BOBBY  
** One other thang. Take a funky-ass forty of Johnnie Walker Blue.

 **DEAN  
** (To Bobby) Okay. (To Sam) Come on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. We goin afta Bela.

 **SAM  
** What, biatch? Whoa, whoa, whoa yo. Hold on a second.

 **DEAN  
** Come on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Git yo' stuff. Da clockz ticking.

 **SAM  
** Look, I be thinkin we should stay here n' finish tha case.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass insane?

 **SAM  
** Dean, there be a no way her big-ass booty still has tha Colt son! That was months ago! Biatch probably sold it tha second she gots dat shit.

 **DEAN  
** Well, then I be bout ta bust a cap up in her n' shit. Win-win. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **SAM  
** Dean...

 **DEAN  
** Sam. We going!

 **SAM  
** No!

 **DEAN  
** Why tha hell not?

 **SAM  
** Dean, this, dis here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Now. This is whatz gonna save you, biatch.

 **DEAN  
** What, biatch? Chasin some Frankenstein?

 **SAM  
** Chasin immortality. (DEAN stares at him, startled) Look, Benton can't take a thugged-out dirt nap. We smoke up how tha fuck da ruffneck done did it, we can do it ta you, biatch.

 **DEAN  
** What is you poppin' off about?

 **SAM  
** Yo ass gotta take a thugged-out dirtnap before you git all up in hell, right, biatch? So, if you can never die, then...

 **DEAN  
** Wait, wait, wait. Wait a second. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Did yo dirty ass know dat dis was Doc Benton from tha jump?

 **SAM  
** No. (DEAN stares at SAM, tiltin his head up in a question) Look, I was hoping.

 **DEAN  
** So tha whole zombie thang, dat shiznit was lyin ta me son?

 **SAM  
** I didn't wanna say anythang until I was sure, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. All I be tryin ta do is find a answer here.

 **DEAN  
** No. What you tryin ta do is chase Slicy McHackey here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho fo' realz. And ta bust a cap up in him, biatch? No. Yo ass wanna loot his ass a gangbangin' freakin brew n' shit. Yo ass wanna study his muthafuckin ass.

 **SAM  
** I was just tryin ta help.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass aint helping! Yo ass forget dat if I welch on dis deal, you take a thugged-out dirt nap. Guess what, livin forever is welching.

 **SAM  
** Fine biaaatch! Then, whatever tha magic pill is, I be bout ta take it too!

 **DEAN  
** Oh, what tha fuck is this, biatch? Sid n' Nancy, biatch? No. It aint nuthin but just like Bobbyz been saying. We bust a cap up in tha demon whoz ass owns tha contract n' dis whole damn thang wipes clean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Thatz our dopest shot.

 **SAM  
** Even if you had tha Colt, Dean, whoz ass is you gonna blast, biatch? Our thugged-out asses have no clue whoz ass holdz tha ticket.

 **DEAN  
** Well, I be bout ta blast tha hellhoundz then before they slash me up. Now, you comin or not?

 **SAM  
** (Quietly) I be stayin here.

 **DEAN  
** Fuck dat shit, you not. 'Cause I aint gonna let you wander up in tha woodz ridin' solo ta track some organ jackin freak.

 **SAM  
** Yo ass aint gonna let me son?

 **DEAN  
** Fuck dat shit, I aint gonna let you, biatch.

 **SAM  
** How tha fuck is you gonna stop me son, biatch? (Dean again n' again n' again looks startled) Look, dude, we tryin ta do tha same thang here.

 **DEAN  
** I know. But I be going. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So if you wanna stay...stay. 

DEAN watches SAM but SAM continues ta stare all up in tha wall. DEAN shrugs, puts his bag on his shoulder n' headz over ta open tha door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM don't move. 

 **DEAN  
** (Hesitatin then turnin back) Sammy, be careful.

SAM finally turns ta grill DEAN.

 **SAM  
** (Quietly) Yo ass like a muthafucka.

They stare is each other fo' a long-ass moment, then DEAN reaches up n' closes tha door behind his muthafuckin ass. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM lets up a big-ass sigh.

....................

CANAAN, VERMONT.

EXTERIOR. DAY.RUFUS TURNER'S HOUSE.

DEAN climbs tha tall stairs onto tha porch fo' realz. A handwritten sign say "No solicitors, dat means you, nahmean biiiatch, biatch? No askin fo' donations. No pushin ANYTHING!"

DEAN rings tha buzzer, then bangs on tha securitizzle door yo. Dude hears a noise n' looks up ta peep a securitizzle camera movin ta train on his muthafuckin ass. 

 **RUFUS  
** (via intercom) What?

We peep a view of DEAN all up in tha securitizzle camera.

 **DEAN  
** Yea muthafucka, uh, Rufus?

 **RUFUS  
** Yeah, even if I am, tha question is still tha same. What?

 **DEAN  
** Uh, I be Dean Winchesta n' shit. I be a gangbangin' playa of Bobby Singer's.

 **RUFUS  
** So?

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass called his ass dis morning.

 **RUFUS  
** So?

 **DEAN  
** Uh... (DEAN tries ta grin all up in tha securitizzle camera)...you holla'd at Bobby on some British chick whoz ass made contact wit you, biatch.

 **RUFUS  
** And so?

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass know where she is?

 **RUFUS  
** Yeah.

 **DEAN  
** Great. Could you tell me where I could find her?

 **RUFUS  
** No.

 **DEAN  
** (To his dirty ass) Course not. (Out loud) Look, Rufus, man...

 **RUFUS  
** (Openin tha door) Look, let me point suttin' up ta you, biatch. Yo ass is knockin at mah door, so don't "Look, man" mah dirty ass. I aint yo' man.

 **DEAN  
** I be sorry, sir.

 **RUFUS  
** All right, let me rap a lil story. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. See, back up in tha day, Bobby called me, axed mah crazy ass ta booty-call his ass if I gots a whiff of dis Bela Talbot. I gots a whiff. I called. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da end.

 **DEAN  
** Okay, yeah, if you could just tell me where she is, I mean, dat would be pimped out.

 **RUFUS  
** Dean Winchester, right?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah.

 **RUFUS  
** Dean, do I be lookin like I be here ta help yo slick ass?

 **DEAN  
** I'ma say no?

 **RUFUS  
** Then git tha hell of mah property.

 **DEAN  
** All right, yeah, fair enough cause I gots dem finger-lickin' chickens wit tha siz-auce. I gots one mo' question fo' you, though cause I gots dem finger-lickin' chickens wit tha siz-auce. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. See, I gots this, uh, dis forty of scotch, and... uh, is dis considered good?

RUFUS eyes tha bottle, eyes DEAN, n' starts smiling.  
  
........................  
  
INTERIOR. RUFUS TURNER'S HOUSE

DEAN n' RUFUS sit all up in tha table wit glasses up in front of dem wild-ass muthafuckas. Da forty is three quartas empty.   
  
**DEAN  
** Bottoms up.

They click glasses n' drink.

 **RUFUS  
** Yo ass know, I don't even bother drankin unless itz dis stuff. Nectar of tha Gods, I be spittin some lyrics ta you, biatch.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, itz a sick chizzle, you know. Most of mah whiskey be reppin a plastic jug. (They both laugh) So, Bela was here cuz...

 **RUFUS  
** Bitch wanted ta loot a cold-ass lil couple thangs, which is gonna take me some time ta round up.

 **DEAN  
** Where is she now?

RUFUS watches DEAN closely.

 **RUFUS  
** Can I ask you something?

 **DEAN  
** Sure.

 **RUFUS  
** Yo ass gots three weeks left. Why is you wastin yo' time chasin afta dat skinny, stuck-up Gangsta girl?

 **DEAN  
** (Suspicious) How tha fuck do you know bout that?

 **RUFUS  
** (leanin forward) Because I know thangs. I know a shitload of thangs on some lot of people.

 **DEAN  
** Is dat so?

 **RUFUS  
** I know ain't no peashoota gonna save you, biatch.

 **DEAN  
** What make you so sure?

 **RUFUS  
** Cause thatz tha thang, kid. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Even if you manage ta scrape outta dis one, there be a just gonna be suttin' else down tha road. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Folks like us...there ain't no aiiight ending. We all gots it coming.

 **DEAN  
** Well, ain't you a funky-ass bucket of sunshine?

 **RUFUS  
** I be what tha fuck you've gots ta look forward ta if you survive. (Smirkin n' raisin his wild lil' freakadelic glass again) But you won't.

.......................

EXTERIOR. DIRT ROAD. DAY.

SAM pulls over his bangin rental hoopty n' turns off tha engine yo. Dude checks his crazy-ass map again, gets outta tha hoopty n' starts struttin tha fuck into tha forest.

........................

INTERIOR. RUFUS'S CABIN.

 **DEAN  
** So, Bela...

 **RUFUS  
** (By now like faded) Hotel Canaan. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Room 39. But peep yo' back.

 **DEAN  
** I be thinkin I can handle Bela.

 **RUFUS  
** Oh, don't be all kindsa shizzle bout dis shit. There is thangs dat you don't give a fuck bout her n' shit. 

 **DEAN  
** Oh, n' you do, biatch? Right. Because you know thangs.

 **RUFUS  
** (Superior) Yep. 

 **DEAN  
** And let me guess...you lift her fingerprint?

 **RUFUS  
** Yep.

 **DEAN  
** And dat gots you jack.

 **RUFUS  
** Yep. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch burnt dem off. Probably muthafuckin years ago.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, so you right where we are.

 **RUFUS  
** Nope. (DEAN looks at his ass funky) Yo ass do her ear?

 **DEAN  
** Sorry?

 **RUFUS  
** Yo ass do her ear?

 **DEAN  
** Yo, dude, I be bout ta try anythang once yo, but I don't give a gangbangin' fuck. That soundz uncomfortable.

 **RUFUS  
** Ears is as unique ta humans as fingerprints.

 **DEAN  
** No kidding.

 **RUFUS  
** Of course, dat don't fly up in tha courts over here yo, but up in England, they all over it fo' realz. A playa of a gangbangin' playa...of a gangbangin' playa faxed mah crazy ass 10 pagez of confidential filez within a thugged-out day. It make me wanna hollar playa! All I had ta bust his ass was one clean blasted off tha securitizzle camera.

 **DEAN  
** Right. One clean blasted of her ear. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 

 **RUFUS  
** (Handin Dean a gangbangin' folder) Da so-called Bela Talbot.

...............................  
  
INTERIOR. DOC BENTON'S CABIN. NIGHT. 

SAM entas wit a torch up in n' looks around. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude findz a journal n' pockets it yo. Dude moves ta tha cellar fo' realz. A manz dead body is lyin on tha operatin table yo. Dude keeps lookin around, hears a slight noise n' all up in ragged curtains sees another body yo. Dude moves closer n' shiznit fo' realz. A biatch is strapped down a another tha operatin table, her arm stretched up beside her n' covered up in maggots, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch is missin skin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM leans up in ta place his wild lil' fingers on tha pulse point of her neck. Da biatch gasps n' her eyes sprang open. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM startlez violently. 

 **SAM  
** Shh! Shh! Shh! It aint nuthin but all gravy. I be here ta help you, biatch. I be here ta help you, biatch. I'ma help you, biatch. I be sorry as a muthafucka bout dat bullshit. I be sorry as a muthafucka bout dat bullshit. 

SAM grabs a cold-ass lil cloth n' wraps it round her arm, shhin her tha whole time. 

 **SAM  
** I be sorry as a muthafucka bout dat bullshit. I be sorry as a muthafucka bout dat bullshit. 

They hear a thugged-out door open upstairs. Da biatch starts crying, unable ta help her muthafuckin ass. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM covers her grill but DOC BENTON hears n' starts down tha stairs wit a lamp ta investigate. Da biatch n' SAM is gone. DOC BENTON looks up ta peep a window open.


	4. ACT THREE

EXTERIOR. NIGHT. DOC BENTON'S CABIN  
  
SAM carries tha sucka ta his bangin rental car.

 **SAM  
** (placin her up in tha passenger seat) Okay, peep yo' head, peep yo' head. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Sorry.

SAM runs round n' gets tha fuck into tha driverz seat. BENTON comes outta nowhere, grabs SAMz head n' slams it against tha wheel. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM reverses wildly, his thugged-out lil' passenger screamin yo. Dude chizzlez gear n' floors it, rollin straight over BENTON fo' realz. As tha hoopty speedz away BENTON rises n' looks afta them, his head at a wild-ass angle.

.............  
  
INTERIOR. BELA'S HOTEL ROOM

BELA enters, turnin ta close tha door behind her n' shit. DEAN pushes her back against tha door yo. Dude lays his thugged-out arm across her throat n' points his wild lil' freakadelic glock at her face. 

 **DEAN  
** Wherez tha Colt?

 **BELA  
** (Calmly) Dean.

 **DEAN  
** No extra lyrics.

 **BELA  
** It aint nuthin but long gone, across tha ghetto by now, nahmeean?

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass is lying.

Dude grabs her bag from her hand ta look up in dat shit.

 **BELA  
** I be bout ta call tha buyer n' shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Speak Farsi?

DEAN grabs her round tha waist, pullin her against his muthafuckin ass.

 **BELA  
** What tha hell is you, biatch...

DEAN quickly frisks her, find her glock n' holdz it up ta her muthafuckin ass.

 **DEAN  
** Don't flatta yo ass. 

DEAN uses tha deal wit his wild lil' freakadelic glock ta snap on tha roomz lights, then points it at her again.

 **DEAN  
** Don't move.

DEAN begins searchin tha room, leavin BELA standin against tha door.

 **BELA  
** I holla'd at you I aint gots dat shit.

 **DEAN  
** Oh, yeah, I be definitely gonna take yo' word fo' dat shit.

DEAN turns his back n' continues riflin all up in her draws. BELA slides along tha wall toward tha door fo' realz. A cap goes all up in tha door, inches from her head. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Biatch freezes.

 **DEAN  
** Don't move.

DEAN continues searching.

 **BELA  
** It aint nuthin but gone. Git on a plane if you must. Track down tha buyer n' shit. Yo ass might catch up ta his ass eventually.

DEAN finishes searchin n' returns ta BELA, takin a stizzle n' pointin his wild lil' freakadelic glock at her head.

 **BELA  
** Is you goin ta bust a cap up in me son?

 **DEAN  
** Oh, yeah.

 **BELA  
** Yo ass aint tha cold-blooded type.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass mean like yo slick ass, biatch? Thatz true. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. See, I couldn't imagine cappin' mah muthafathas.

 **BELA  
** (Shocked but regrouping) I don't give a fuck what tha fuck you rappin'...

 **DEAN  
** Yes, you do. Yo ass were, what, 14, biatch? Folks took a dirt nap up in some shady hoopty accident. Popo suspected a slashed brake line yo, but dat shiznit was all too crispy ta tell. Cut ta lil Bela...Oh, I be sorry, Abby...inheritin millions.

 **BELA  
** How tha fuck did you even...

 **DEAN  
** Doesn't matter.

 **** _FLASHBACK  
_  
Young Abby is chillin on her bed, bustin up fo' realz. A playa slowly strutts tha fuck into tha room n' turns ta close tha door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch looks terrified.

 **BELA  
** They was ghettofab playas fo' realz. And I capped dem wild-ass muthafuckas fo' realz. And I gots rich. I can't be bothered ta give a gangbangin' fuck. Just like I couldn't give a fuckin shiznit what tha fuck happens ta you, biatch.

DEAN pushes her roughly against tha door wit his thugged-out arm across her throat again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. A strand of woven herbs is dislodged from tha ledge above tha door but no one notices.

 **DEAN  
** (Starin fo' a long-ass tense moment.) Yo ass make me sick.

 **BELA  
** Likewise.

DEAN takes a step back n' again n' again n' again points his wild lil' freakadelic glock at her head, smirking. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch stares back, then closes her eyes. Dean is distracted n' looks up, spyin tha herbs hangin over tha ledge yo. Dude looks back at her, thinking. BELA opens her eyes as DEAN drops tha gun. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass aint worth dat shit.

DEAN drags her aside n' leaves. BELA lifts her hand which now has a scrap of paper up in dat shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch looks at it, a motel receipt,  _Da Erie_. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch grabs her phone.

 **BELA**  
It worked. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude found mah dirty ass. Fuck dat shit, Sam wasn't wit his muthafuckin ass. But I know where they are.  
  
...........................  
  
INTERIOR. MOTEL ROOM

(Samz beeper rings, he picks up)

 **SAM  
** Dean.

 **DEAN  
** (in tha Impala) Yeah.

 **SAM  
** Did yo dirty ass git tha Colt?

 **DEAN  
** What do you think?

 **SAM  
** So, do dat mean Bela is, uh...

 **DEAN  
** Fuck dat shit, no, her dope ass deserves ta take a thugged-out dirtnap a thugged-out dozen times over yo, but I couldn't do dat shit.

 **SAM  
** Dean...

 **DEAN  
** I be straight-up screwed, Sammy.

 **SAM  
** Fuck dat shit, you just...

 **DEAN  
** But you was right. Bela was a goose chase. Da Coltz gone, n' dis time I be straight-up screwed, Sam.

 **SAM  
** Maybe not. Look, Dean, I found Bentonz cabin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass aiiight, biatch? Was tha pimpin' muthafucka there?

 **SAM  
** Yeah.

 **DEAN  
** Did yo dirty ass bust a cap up in him?

 **SAM  
** No.

 **DEAN  
** What do you mean, "no"?

 **SAM  
** Dean, please just listen fo' a second. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I found his fuckin lab book, n' it has tha formula.

 **DEAN  
** What, tha live-forever formula?

 **SAM  
** Yeah.

 **DEAN  
** Great, let me guess. I gots ta drank blood outta a funky-ass babyz skull?

 **SAM  
** Fuck dat shit, thatz tha thang. It aint nuthin but not black magic. Therez no blood sacrifice or anything. It aint nuthin but just science, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Very, straight-up mad weird science yo, but...

 **DEAN  
** Wait, wait, wait. What are...What is you saying, biatch? Yo ass think...

 **SAM  
** Dean, I be thinkin it might be doable. I mean, I know we've hit a shitload of walls yo, but I...I be thinkin dis formula, I be thinkin it might be dat shit. This could save you, biatch.

 **DEAN  
** Okay, so, dis formula...

 **SAM  
** Well, I mean, look, look, our asses aint up in tha clear yet. There is still thangs dat I don't get...

An arm be reppin behind SAM n' covers his crazy-ass grill wit a rag. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM drops tha phone. Well shiiiit, it is DOC BENTON. 

 **DEAN  
** Sam, biatch? Sammy hommie!


	5. ACT FOUR

INTERIOR. DOC BENTON'S CABIN

SAM is strapped ta a operatin table yo. His eyes is taped open.

 **DOC BENTON  
** Yo ass can chillax. It aint nuthin but all gonna be aiiight fo' realz. Ain't not a god damn thang gonna happen here dat you gots ta worry about, Sammy. Yo crazy-ass chancez of comin outta dis procedure kickin it, biatch? Very, straight-up high. 

 **SAM  
** How tha fuck do you know mah name, biatch? 

 **DOC BENTON  
** Oh...I know. Yo ass be thinkin I be some kind of monster, don't yo slick ass, biatch? Well, I gots ta rap , I aint NEVER done one thang dat I did not gotta do. This whole eternal-life thang is straight-up high-maintenance. If suttin' goes bad, like mah eyes here...you gots ta replace dem wild-ass muthafuckas fo' realz. And sometimes thangs git damaged, like when yo' daddy cut up mah ass. Now, that...That was straight-up inconvenient. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So, I be shizzle dat you can KNOW all tha joy I felt when I read all bout mah dirty ass here up in his journal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. Kind of make dis whole thang just feel like some kind of crew reunion, don't it, biatch? Well, I guess itz bout time dat we git dis thang started.

DOC BENTON brangs his scoop straight-up close ta SAM'S eye. Three shots rang out, blastin DOC BENTON from behind. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude turns n' sees DEAN. 

 **DOC BENTON  
** Shoot all you want.

DOC BENTON approaches n' DEAN lets loose two mo' bullets, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. DOC BENTON throws DEAN tha fuck into tha wall n' he falls ta tha ground. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! DOC BENTON approaches again, leanin down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. DEAN plunges a knife tha fuck into DOC BENTON'S chest.

 **DOC BENTON  
** (Laughing) A knife, biatch? What part of immortalitizzle do you not understand, biatch? Pitizzle bout tha ass, though cause I gots dem finger-lickin' chickens wit tha siz-auce. Dat shiznit was a funky-ass brand-new one.

 **DEAN  
** Good. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! Well shiiiit, it should be pumpin sick n' strong...(DEAN holdz up a funky-ass forty of chloroform) Sendin dis shiznit all up in yo' whole body. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. See, I picked up yo' lil forty upstairs n' dipped tha knife up in dat shit.

DOC BENTON collapses.

..............................

DOC BENTON awakes strapped ta tha operatin table. DEAN n' SAM stand over his muthafuckin ass.

 **DEAN  
** Oh, hiya, Doc. Wakey, wakey, eggs n' bac-y.

 **DOC BENTON  
** Please.

 **DEAN  
** Please what, biatch? You've been cappin' skanky bastardz fo' over 150 muthafuckin years n' now you gots a request, biatch? Shut up.

 **DOC BENTON  
** Fuck dat shit, you don't understand. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I can help you, biatch. I know what tha fuck you need. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **DEAN  
** We might gotta cut his ass up tha fuck into lil bits, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. Yo ass know, dis immortalitizzle thang be a funky-ass biiiatch.

 **DOC BENTON  
** I can read tha formula fo' you, biatch. Yo ass know...immortality...Forever young, never take a thugged-out dirt nap.

 **SAM  
** Dean.

 **DEAN  
** Sam.

SAM strutts outta tha room, indicatin DEAN should follow.

 **DEAN  
** What?

 **SAM  
** I mean, we poppin' off hell up in three weeks. Or needin a freshly smoked up pancreas up in like half a cold-ass lil century.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, well, you can't exactly git dem at a Kwik-E-Mart.

 **SAM  
** It aint nuthin but not slick yo, but it buys our asses mo' time ta be thinkin of suttin' mo' betta n' shit. Us playas just need time, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I mean, please, just...just be thinkin bout dat shit.

 **DEAN  
** No.

 **SAM  
** Dean, don't you wanna live?

 **DEAN  
** What he be aint living. Look, dis is simple.

 **SAM  
** Simple?

 **DEAN  
** To me it is, aiiight. Black or white; human, not human. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. (DEAN strutts back ta stand up in front of DOC BENTON) See, what tha fuck tha Doc is be a gangbangin' freakin' monsta n' shit. I can't do dat shit. I would rather git all up in hell.

 **DOC BENTON  
** (Callin out) Yo ass don't understand. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I can help you, nahmean biiiatch?

DEAN covers a rag wit mo' chloroform n' places it over DOC BENTON'S grill.

 **DEAN**  
Now, I'ma take care of his muthafuckin ass. Yo ass can either help me or not. It aint nuthin but up ta you, biatch.  
  
.........................

  
DOC BENTON wakes n' lights a match yo. Dude is up in a funky-ass box yo. Dude can't git tha lid open. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.   
  
Camera switches ta viewin tha box from tha outside. Well shiiiit, it aint nuthin but a refrigerator laid up in a hole up in tha ground. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da DOC'S book lies on top. 

 **DOC BENTON  
** No! No! Don't son! Quit dat shiznit son! I can help you, nahmean biiiatch, biatch? No!

 **DEAN  
** Trip off forever up in there, Doc.

DEAN n' SAM begin shovellin up in tha hole.   
  
**DOC BENTON  
** Let me up son! I can save you, nahmean biiiatch, biatch? No. Don't.


	6. ACT FIVE

INTERIOR. MOTEL ROOM HALLWAY.

BELA slowly strutts down tha hallway n' picks tha lock on a thugged-out door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch removes a glock from her jacket n' on tha fuckin' down-lowly enters. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch raises tha glock n' puts two bullets tha fuck into tha bodies lyin under tha covers on each bed, then moves closer, turnin on a funky-ass bedside lamp fo' realz. A clock beside tha lamp shows it is 11.56 pm.

BELA pulls back tha covers ta find a sex doll slowly deflating. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch checks tha other bed, another sex doll. Da beeper rings n' she quickly picks it up.

 **DEAN  
** Hiya, Bela yo. Herez a gangbangin' funk fact you may not know. I felt yo' hand up in mah pocket, when you swiped dat motel receipt. 

 **BELA  
** Yo ass don't understand.

 **DEAN  
** (in tha hoopty wit SAM) Oh, I be pretty shizzle I KNOW perfectly. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. See, I noticed suttin' bangin-ass up in yo' hotel room. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Somethang tucked above tha door fo' realz. An herb. Devilz shoestring, biatch? Therez only one use fo' dis shiznit yo. Holdin hellhoundz at bay. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So you know what tha fuck I did, I went back n' I took another peep yo' folks' obit. Turns up they took a dirt nap ten muthafuckin years ago todizzle. It make me wanna hollar playa! Yo ass didn't bust a cap up in dem wild-ass muthafuckas fo' realz. A demon did yo' dirty work. Yo ass done cooked up a thugged-out deal, didn't you, Bela fo' realz. And itz come due.

**_FLASHBACK._ **

BELA sits on a swin fo' realz. A lil hoe sits beside her, straight-up self-possessed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **GIRL  
** I can take care of dem fo' you, biatch fo' realz. And it won't even cost you anything...for ten whole years.

Da lil girlz eyes turn red, then go back ta normal.

**_END FLASHBACK._ **

**DEAN  
** Is dat why you stole tha Colt, huh, biatch? Try ta wiggle outta yo' deal, our glock fo' yo' soul?

 **BELA  
** Yes yes y'all.

 **DEAN  
** But jackin tha Colt wasn't like enough, I be guessing.

 **BELA  
** They chizzled tha deal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. They wanted mah crazy ass ta bust a cap up in Sam. 

 **DEAN  
** Straight-Up dawwwwg! Fuck dat shit, demons untrustworthy. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Shocker n' shit. That's, uh, kind of a tight deadline too- what tha fuck time is it, biatch? Well, peep that, almost midnight.

 **BELA  
** (Crying) Dean, listen, I need help.

 **DEAN  
** Sweetheart, we is weeks past help.

 **BELA  
** I know I don't deserve dat shit.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass know what, you right, you don't. But you know what tha fuck tha biiiatch of tha bunch is, biatch? If you would have just come ta our asses sooner n' axed fo' help we probably could have taken tha Colt n' saved you, biatch.

 **BELA  
** I know, n' saved yo ass. I know bout yo' deal, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **DEAN  
** And whoz ass holla'd at you that?

 **BELA  
** Da Demon dat holdz dat shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch holdz mine like a muthafucka. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch holla'd dat freaky freaky biatch holdz every last muthafuckin deal.

 **DEAN  
** She?

 **BELA  
** Her namez Lilith.

 **DEAN  
** Lilith, biatch? Why should I believe yo slick ass?

 **BELA  
** Yo ass shouldn't but itz tha real deal.

 **DEAN  
** This can't help you, Bela, not now, nahmeean, biatch? Why you spittin some lyrics ta me this?

 **BELA  
** Because just maybe you can bust a cap up in tha biiiatch.

 **DEAN  
** I be bout ta peep you up in hell.

DEAN hangs up. 

BELA sits on tha bed listenin ta tha dial tone. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch hangs up n' takes a thugged-out deep breath just as tha clock clicks over ta midnight fo' realz. A deep howlin starts up in tha distance, then closer vicious growls begin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 


End file.
